


Blood Ties

by inquisitor_tohru



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blood Magic, Dathomir (Star Wars), Huxloween, M/M, Rituals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-24 05:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20902568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/pseuds/inquisitor_tohru
Summary: Hux retrieves an artifact from Dathomir for the Supreme Leader, with unintended (but not unwelcome) consequences.Based around a collection of prompts for Huxloween 2019!





	1. Dathomir

**Author's Note:**

> For prompt 12: _witches_

The red mists of Dathomir were rife with the dark side of the Force. Even Hux felt it - thick, oppressive, _invasive_. The swamp had been bad enough, the overwhelming stench of decay forcing him to wrinkle his nose in an unseemly manner. But it was nothing in comparison to the raw, untamed power that clung and clawed at the edges of his mind. In some ways, this planet reminded him of Ren. Hux was not sure whether, if he had been inclined to join the expedition, the Supreme Leader would have loved or hated it. Perhaps both.

"Sir, we've found an artifact matching the description." Hux was relieved, but his expression faltered. Dathomir's light made the stormtrooper's armour shine red like Cardinal's. It was unsettling.

The artifact in question was one of a number of bizarre objects that had been left behind on one of the witches' altars - an old, cracked crystal ball with a faint glow. Hux had little notion of what it might have been used for, and it wasn't something that particularly interested him. All he cared about in that moment was safely extracting the artifact and getting the hell off this godforsaken planet.

Once they were on the shuttle, Hux ran his finger over the crack in the orb, where the glow was brightest. It was pleasantly warm to the touch. As he leaned forward to inspect it, a sudden jolt brought it into collision with his jaw, carving a small but angry scar into his lower lip. He ran his tongue over the cut, the taste of blood reminding him of the time Snoke had forced him to the ground from afar, in front of his bridge crew. The memory stung more than his lip, but Snoke was dead and gone. He wished it had been by his own hand, but he supposed he couldn't have quite everything.

When Hux refocused his attention on the orb, his heart beat slower to match the rhythm of its pulsing light. He peered closer, squinting. Reflected in the crystal's surface was a grey-faced woman with tattoos and long, dark hair pulled back in two tight braids - only she wasn't a reflection, or at least not the kind he was familiar with. She was not on the shuttle, but bent over the altar from which they'd retrieved the crystal. _A Nightsister_. In one hand she held what appeared to be a ceremonial dagger, its silver hilt studded with deep red jewels, the blade soaked with blood. Hux licked his lower lip again, wondering if it was the Nightsister's own blood that dripped from the dagger.

"General?" The pilot gave him an odd look, before Hux confirmed the co-ordinates, assuming that was the issue at hand. If the pilot's change in demeanour was anything to go by, it had been a sound assumption.

When he turned his gaze back towards the crystal ball, all he saw was the sleek but uninteresting and uninspiring interior of the shuttle.


	2. Ritual

A cracked kyber crystal, a fractured mask, a scar that split his face into two pieces of a whole, and now this. Ren chuckled as he looked upon the orb, opening as if to spill its secrets. Now that he possessed the scrolls _ and _the orb, he could begin the ritual.

It was not a simple thing - some herbs could only be harvested at the dead of night, or their powers would weaken. Ren did not understand precisely why that was - he was no botanist - but all that mattered was that his instructions were followed. Others could only be gathered using certain materials. One flower had given him particular trouble as it was native to Alderaan. But the First Order was resourceful, and eventually a vendor was located.

Hux presented him with the orb himself, which had amused Ren greatly, especially since the man was not subtle when it came to his disdain for the Force or anything like it. Did the general hope to curry some favour with him? Perhaps he was angling for the title of Grand Marshal again. _ Might as well dangle it in front of him _, Ren had decided, thinking of cartoon animals with carrots hanging limply before their eyes.

He was still irritated that the throne room didn't have a holotelevision system. He would have to see about getting one of the technicians in.

For now, his attention turned to more ancient matters. Ren had studied mystical texts, written by both Jedi and Sith practitioners, but never before had he dabbled in _ witchcraft. _ Yet he had heard tales and rumours from all manner of people across the galaxy. _ The Dathomirian witches turned their men into titans, loyal only to them. They raised the dead and commanded legions of corpses. _

Ren tried to handle the plants with care as he mixed the potion, but his fingers felt indelicate and clumsy. He reached out to the Force, seeking some kind of lingering imprint, but it was no use. The pressed flowers in his hands were dead things and the Force - even the dark side of the Force - drew its power from _ life _.

Once he was done chopping, crushing, and combining the various ingredients, he placed the orb in the bowl. It bobbed gently on the potion's surface, the crack in the crystal a gaping maw anticipating the final ingredient. This, at least, was something Ren understood.

_ Blood. _


End file.
